Once you start down a dark path
by IzzyandDesRoxSox
Summary: "He can't be saved, and she's just damning herself when she tries." Because once you start down a dark path, there's no going back. — Or, the tragedy of Ricky Owens and Cassidy Williams— a scorned boy who made all the wrong choices and the naive girl killed because she loved someone she tried to save. SDMI-verse. Reviews greatly appreciated!


once you start down a dark path

summary: "He can't be saved, and she's just damning herself when she tries." Because once you start down a dark path, there's no going back. — The tragedy of Ricky Owens and Cassidy Williams.

author's note: This. Fucking. Lovestory. Is. Depressing. ;_; Not even kidding, it's like a taste of Snape/Lily, mixed with a HELL of a lot of Anakin/Padmé, and thrown together with that 'unhappily ever after' potion. Ugh. SDMI deserves an award for making _Scooby Doo_ of all bloody things, depressing.

_**Love is**__, without a doubt, such a __**cruel **__being. _

_It can make one feel __**powerful,**__ and at the same time can __**destroy**__ them._

_Once someone has power they fear of __**losing it, **__and instead __**lose themselves. **_

_Sometimes __**without**__ this love, one is __**nothing. **_

_And other times, it is their own lover who __**betrays**__ and __**destroys**__ them._

It starts with a hello, and ends with 'I hate you' as their last conversation.

Or maybe the moment from where they'd last left out from all those years ago, and she just knew the light had left his dark eyes long ago.

Because— through it all of the violent words, hate filled thoughts, empty threats, and nothing but revenge came from him— she just knew it, thought it; _'I don't know you anymore...'_

.

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To plot the point where it all fell apart is impossible, at least by this rate, you could more or less simply say they were damned from the start.

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Maybe what's most tragic of all, is how many times more they'd said _'I hate you'_ than _'I love you'._

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She had once told him; "Just remember, I am working with you. Not for you."

They both knew that. But just why was a different story with different choices. So many questionable possibilities.

For love.

For motivation.

For a lie to believe in.

(Because you can't spell believe without 'lie'.)

She may not have been working for him.

_'But I am doing this for you.'_

He had his own reasons, again, far different from hers. Albeit obvious too on his part as well.

For power.

For revenge.

(On everyone and everything on the goddamn world.)

For the simplest reason being there was plenty to get, and absolutely nothing to lose— except maybe her.

(And that scares him to death.)

(Because he _**knows**_ he can't live without her.)

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There is the term being madly in love, and then there's her— and everyone just thinks she's mad.

She pretends to not hear the silent, ever so soft remark from Ed Machine he commented once, weeks before his murder. He shook his head, as if in sadenned shame, and then once seemingly alone— or maybe he intended for her to hear his words;

"He can't be saved, and she's just damning herself when she tries."

But of course, why do people bother being surprised anymore these days? This is Cassidy Williams we're talking about, after all. Still as naïve as always, even after all this time. Still so compassionate.

Still so stupidly willing to believe that she can actually try and save him from himself.

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There's being blinded by love, and then there's her— the blind girl walking into a mine field— something's just going to end up blowing up right in her face.

_He could kill you._

Her thoughts once told her of this dark warning, sending shivers down her spine. She suddenly wanted to scream in response. No, he'd never, she wanted to argue.

_He could kill you. You know it. And he will. He'll do it, he'll see to it. _

He loves her— he _loved_ her once. She loves him— er she loved him only once— right?— all she just knows he wouldn't ever do it.

_(Run, run, run away. As fast as you can, while you still can, honey.)_

.

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There is the term being twisted by love, and then there's him— the scorned boy who made all the wrong choices.

A life consisting of a tragedy not quite meant for a bedtime story, although not necessarily saying she ever had it any better, left alone to fall, so far and so hard.

He was going to make sure the whole world paid for everything it ever did to him.

And her.

Maybe beneath the entangled thorns around his heart that were hatred and revenge, perhaps one motivation is of her. For her.

Or maybe that's just a scar that's been there all along after all these years, because dammit he's never been able to shake her away, let her go, or whatever they call it these days.

Somehow they have this thing where they, despite after everything, always find a way back to each other. Like running in circles.

(But yet, if she stands in his way, he will destroy her too.)

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_"Hi." a shy, lanky boy of barely seven with messy jet black hair stands, waving kindly._

_A tiny girl of six-and-a-half who wore dark pigtails and thick glasses to conceal pretty eyes, with a book always in her hands, smiled brightly. "Hello!"_

_._

_._

_"I love you!" the sixteen year old girl declares in a breathless, flustered whisper, blushing furiously and throwing herself at him for a clumsy but passionate kiss._

_His dark eyes are wide open the entire time, stunned, as it hits him like a hammer to the head 'She loves me... she loves me.. oh my god she loves me!'_

_._

_._

_Sometimes she would reach for his hand on instinct, holding on tightly, and he never ever would let go like she feared he would._

_Suddenly she would feel a little safer and he would feel a whole lot more braver._

_._

_._

And years later, in the end — because irony is a cruel bitch— he would end up destroying her.

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It's tragic really, but almost kind of funny too, she realizes. The last thing she ever mentions about period to anyone at all, the very last thing she tells Daphne, and it has something to do with _him._

With a hardened brave face, heart pounding in her chest, preparing for a quick— most likely not painless— death, she does not cry, but she can't say that her heart wasn't a little (lot) broken.

_'You will be the death of me, Ricky Owens! You hear me!' her teenage self once remarked with a sarcastic smirk, as he laughed amusedly._

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He sits alone, Pericles having left him alone for the moment; Drunk as hell, because alcohol has always had this ability to wash away reality. But this time, it doesn't seem to be working.

Everytime he closes his eyes he sees her— no, not Angel— but suddenly young, sweet, sixteen year old little Cassidy Williams. Her beautiful soft brown eyes are red and swollen from hysterical tears streaming down her face, which is crumpled in an agonized expression, everything about her screams 'betrayed', as she cries over and over _'Ricky why? ! I loved you! I loved you! I __loved__ you!'_

Some cruel thought in the back of his head merely laughs; _'After all, you never were very good with silly little feelings now, were you?' _After all, this is what he had always wanted, right? Revenge and the treasure and everything better then what the world had given him?

_'So I guess Cassidy was never enough, was she?'_

He buries his head in his hands and almost, just almost, cries, because he is still human after all, just a bit;

"What have I done?" he chokes.

And it hits him like a fucking miraculous revelation; He's done exactly what he feared, what he knew, what he delusionally thought he had to (and wanted) to do— he killed her.

Sure it was Pericles who did all the dirty work, but with him going on board with the plan all along he more or less sentenced her to her grave. Her, Cassidy— the shy, quiet, childhood bookworm friend; the beautiful, compassionate, and daring woman; the only girl he ever loved.

She loved him and he killed her.

_'No, she doomed herself. She could've walked away at any time, but she chose to stay and fight. And all's fair in love and war, as they say.'_

For a very long time, he was silent.

"I could've stopped." he whispers softly to himself.

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It'll be worth it in the end, he decides while nursing a hangover the next morning. And doing a relatively good job at it too he supposes, given Pericles doesn't seem to notice. (That, or perhaps the old bird isn't as sharp as he used to be..)

She's gone, no, not because of him, because of the world.

There's hell to pay.

And he's got nothing to lose.

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The tragic tale of the scorned broken boy who made all the wrong choices and the sweetly naïve girl who died because she loved was perhaps not a story, but a fate all along.

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Because, after all, once you start down a dark path, forever it will dominate your destiny.

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_**fin**_


End file.
